Wednesday, February 19, 2014

A Story in Which Wooden Chips Drop From My Lady Parts (and I decide to share more trivial and personal news)

OK, so admittedly that is one misleading headline, because of course no wooden chips have actually dropped from my vag. Instead I dreamt it, and although I once listened to an episode on This American Life where they concluded that no one should ever recount their dreams to other people because, in short, nobody cares!, I will go ahead and tell you anyway. (In part, because Johan always thinks my dreams are so fascinating. Whenever I tell him about a dream I had, he goes: "This is so fascinating, tell me more!")

So, I was in a public bathroom stall, the kind where there's a gap beneath and above the door, and as I rose from the toilet seat and was about to pull up my panties, little wooden chips started to drop from my you know what.

As luck would have it, there was a broomstick and a dustpan in said bathroom stall, and seeing I felt a bit awkward about the thought of people outside being able to see all the wooden chips on the floor, I immediately started sweeping it all up and disposing it in the toilet bowl (which, at second thought I probably shouldn't have done because most likely wooden chips are floaters).


So what does this mean, you ask? I have no idea. At one point it occurred to me that it might be a symptom of a semi-conscious worry of being barren or missing my window of child conception. You know, my ovaries drying up and turning into wooden chips and yada yada. It could mean something even more weird, so if you're a dream interpreter by profession, please do not let me know what this means. I think I kinda prefer not to know.

In other news, we have a very beautiful bright red mango at our house, which I think is so fascinating I feel tempted to parade it around our compound and ask everyone: "Will you look at this bright red mango?!" But then I remind myself that to Kenyans, mangoes are pretty much the equivalent of, say, a dinner roll, and thus may not be equally fascinating to them.

In additional news, I've just finished Dave Eggers' The Circle, which is by far the most apocalyptic piece of writing I have ever read. (Believe me, Kafka's Metamorphosis is like a cute little story about a bug, in comparison.) In short, it's about this 20-something woman who takes a job at The Circle - a corporation that's some sort of future fusion of Google and Facebook, and if you ever want to feel depressed and anxious about the social media imperative of sharing and the consequences of BIG DATA, then this is your go to read. I love Eggers, but this, my friends, gave me nausea. Also, it did not end on a happy note, as few apocalyptic novels are wont to do.

Also, this just in: I bought flowers. I have reached that age, where flowers make me deliriously happy and I look at this bouquet something like 50 times a day and it makes me smile inside. In somewhat related news, Johan has reached the age where he has taken up golf.

In breaking news, I've started taking classes at my gym, and you know what, I love it! I always thought I'd hate it because I have such poor coordination skills, but it turns out that the ladies I exercise with are even worse off than me. We have the most amazing instructor who keeps asking "Ladies, are we together?!" until he has the entire mirrored room roaring "YES PRESTONE, WE ARE TOGETHER!"

In general, this guy has many words of wisdom to share, my favorite being:

Sure, there's something slightly tautological to his way of reasoning, but nonetheless it resonates with me.

In our last segment for tonight, I'd like to share that I recently took it upon me to manually remove 75% of the down in our duvets because they were just too damn heavy and hot to sleep under. As a result they're now superbly lightweight, but the process, oh my god the process! It looked like I had been in a bar fight with a chicken!

Think twice before you slit open a duvet and remove down, is all I can say, and if I can impart just a few piece of advice on you then it's:
1) Don't try this at home unless you have a hoover and/or a very large lint roller, and
2) Try not to breathe. I'm still waiting for THIS to happen because of all the down I inhaled.

So, where did this odd mix of tidbits post come from, you may or may not wonder. Well, it occurred to me that the blogs I really like are the ones that are personal and heavy on trivial, every-day stuff. I love seeing pictures of people's grandparents and their half-consumed breakfast plate, and on the contrary I sort of feel meh about all those curated wish lists and gluten-free recipes. So I thought I'd cut down on all the quinoa and unprocessed grains in this blog space and get a tad more wheat-y and personal too :O)

No comments: